Everything That Happens Eventually
by Bimadabomi
Summary: A series of stories 500 words or less. I've never published such short works, but realized often times that's all I have in my head: just a moment. Rated T for now, as soon as an M moment strikes I'll up the rating.
1. The Morning After

She wakes the next morning, comforted by the warmth of Booth's body. A soft sigh escapes her lips before it all comes rushing back to her.

Vincent.

Broadsky.

Booth.

… _Booth_.

They hadn't really discussed anything before it happened, except that they had both agreed it was what they wanted.

Now she's afraid. Not afraid of taking this step, but afraid of what he will say when he wakes. What if he thinks it was a mistake? Maybe it was only because she was so emotional and upset and he wanted to comfort her.

Maybe he is still angry.

Maybe he is still angry and not ready to be with her like this, and was too caught up in the emotions of last night stop it.

This is why she hates emotion.

She closes her eyes and inhales the scent of him – the scent she'd come to associate with him - more comforting and arousing than she ever thought possible in this scenario.

(Yes… she had imagined this scenario before.)

She wasn't impervious anymore. She was strong.

If she wasn't, she wouldn't have been able to walk into his bedroom last night and allow him to see her so vulnerable, allow them to finally, _finally_ take the next step and cross the line. Allow this to happen without a logical discussion beforehand. Allow them to make love, because yes, she knew that was exactly what it was, with so much intensity and _feeling_.

She's never let anyone see her so vulnerable as she was last night.

But what if he isn't ready yet?

He shifts in his sleep, and when he seems to wake enough to realize that she is there he wakes completely, eyes blinking open slowly.

He gives her a smile and reaches out for her, pulling her close and kissing her on the forehead.

"Morning, Bones," he greets, and it's almost like _this is the only way it's ever been_.

"Good morning," she can't help the smile that forms on her own lips.

He closes his eyes and sighs, relishing the moment, before opening them again and asking her, "You okay?"

She knows it's a reference to last night. "Yes. Better." She studies him and then asks, "You?"

He simply nods, and she's not even sure what that means. Then his eyes are closed again.

"You don't… regret anything… do you? Were you… are you ready?"

He opens an eye and looks at her, understanding.

"Bones, my date passed three weeks ago," he says simply, kissing her again and allowing his eyes to close once more.

That's all she needed to know.


	2. What's in a Name?

They don't always have an easy time agreeing on things.

Naming their baby is no different.

Booth suggests they name her Christine, after Brennan's mother.

"My mother was a criminal, Booth," she says simply, not even giving the idea much thought. Or, more likely, she has already thought about it and come to a decision before he ever brought it up. "She robbed banks."

"She was your mother," Booth points out, boiling it down to the simplest form. "You loved her."

"Yes, but that doesn't change the fact that she was a criminal. She robbed banks, stole an identity, and due to being a criminal she had to run away and abandon her children and then got herself killed. I don't want our daughter having any part of that in her name. Traditionally, children are named after people whom the parents admire and respect and want their child to live up to. I do not want my daughter to live up to being a criminal."

Booth can't argue with that, so he just gives a nod. Brennan suggests naming the baby after his mother, but he scoffs at that and states, "My mother's name was Ellen. It's horrible."

Brennan thought about it. "I like it."

"No."

They name their daughter Madeleine in the end, because it's the only name they can agree on. It's traditional and classic enough for Brennan's taste, and nickname-y and trendy enough for Booth's taste.

She knows Booth will call her Maddie, and it's a nickname she can live with - unlike when they considered Charlotte and she vetoed it because she knew he would call her Charlie.

Brennan is delighted to point out that Madeleine "contains many of the same phonemes as the name Ellen" and that it could still honor Booth's mother. They give Madeleine the middle name Joy, thanks to Booth's convincing, to honor some part of Brennan's childhood, and family, and past. She likes that. After all, she never got to be Joy.

Madeleine Joy Brennan-Booth comes into the world happy and healthy on February 12, 2012.

There's one thing they agree on without a doubt: Madeleine is beautiful.

**A/N: If only we knew what happened to Booth's mother. Maybe she was a crazy drug addict and he wouldn't want his daughter to be named after her anyway. LOL.**


	3. Hannah

"_I don't think we're done. But I can see we're done for now."_

* * *

><p>It's one of those mornings that's just like any other and then she shows up at his office as if it's thirteen months ago and he wouldn't be surprised to see her.<p>

"Hello, Seeley." Since it's not a name he hears often, and especially at _work_ where he's always _Booth_, he looks up in surprise.

"Hannah."

She gives him a warm smile, and looks him up and down. "How have you been?"

"I've been… great," he confides, which is the truth. "How are you?"

"Good, as well," she replies. She glances around his office, taking in everything Seeley that she'd really and truly _missed_. Her eyes drift over the pictures of Parker behind his desk and catch on a few new ones that pique her curiosity, pictures of a newborn baby girl, but the obvious conclusion doesn't make sense so she doesn't come to it. "I've missed you," she finally breathes.

She _had_ missed him terribly. She'd never wanted to get married to anyone, ever, but saying no to Seeley had been hard. Since then she'd been second-guessing her decision repeatedly. She had been with a wonderful guy for the last three months, but something was _missing_.

"Hannah…" he begins, realizing where this was going.

"I've changed," she admits suddenly, eyes bright. "I don't know what the hell you did to me, Seeley Booth, but you changed me. I love my job, but I want someone to come home to. I love my independence but suddenly I miss sharing things with someone. With you," she clarifies. "I just spent three months with a wonderful man but I only want to commit to you."

"We had our chance," he says gently. It's funny, he realizes. With Rebecca, Hannah, missing their chance was an excuse to move on. With Bones, they missed it several times over and continued until they got it.

"I was wrong to say no."

"I'm with someone else," he finally spells it out for her, clear as day. "Committed." He turns to the pictures of his daughter and picks one up to show Hannah. "This is my daughter. She's three weeks old."

Hannah takes the picture and stares. How on Earth? They had broken up only 13 months ago. A pregnancy takes nine of those months, and the baby was almost a month old. In three months he had found someone else, committed to her, and they decided to have a baby? How… who…

The obvious answer strikes her. "Temperance," she states. It's not a question.

He nods. "Temperance."

"Good thing I said no then," she says, a little sarcasm to her tone. He wants to marry her then three months later he's completely moved on.

"If you'd said yes, it wouldn't have been fair to you," he agrees and explains all at once.

"Because you've always been in love with Temperance." He nods. "Congratulations," she says, and she actually means it because somehow she realizes she never stood a chance.

* * *

><p>According to Word this comes in at just under 500 words, but the site says it's more. So I'm going with Word, since that's where I write it and check the word count.<p> 


	4. Anger and Regrets

Post "Daredevil in the Mold."

* * *

><p>If she were any other woman, the way she asks him what happens next might make him think she was fishing for an opportunity for him to open up and declare that now they get their chance.<p>

But she's not any other woman, she's Temperance Brennan, and he knows she's not fishing for anything. She's simply asking. She really wants to know what is literally going to happen next. Maybe between them, maybe just to him. He doesn't know, but he does know she doesn't play games.

Even as he's saying it, telling her "there's the door" and that tomorrow he can find her a new FBI guy, he doesn't know what she will do. He knows what he's telling her: that they can only be just partners, nothing more. He doesn't know if this is going to push her away and cause her to retreat and put her walls up or if she's going to sit here and have a drink.

She has a drink.

If he wasn't so damn mad – at her, at Rebecca, and especially at fucking Hannah ("I thought we had more time until we got to this." What the hell did that mean anyway?), he would be proud of her for not retreating. Touched that she's that willing to stay in his life.

He knows that she regrets it, not giving them their chance. But her regrets came too late. He's mad about that too. Why the hell couldn't she have come to this epiphany a year earlier when he was begging her to give them a chance? Instead she put him through _two_ heartbreaks. First her, and then Hannah, a relationship that never would've happened if she'd said yes back then.

He's mad at himself too. For listening to Sweets, for letting him get to him and make him think he should gamble. He gambled and not for the first time, he lost. He's mad because he's learned that lesson about gambling already.

He's just mad because everything about this situation just _sucks_.

He knows she wants to say something when he asks her why no one wants to take what he's offering. Part of him wants to hear what her reasoning is, but the other part of him does not want to hear anything about fucking regrets right now.

She sits with him. She has a drink or two and then she stops. She lets him drink a few more before she gently stops him. He can tell she would offer him a ride home, but she's obviously unsure if that's allowed now. So she calls a cab for him and makes sure he gets in and home.

She didn't leave his side for a _second_, despite how he'd almost tried to push her away.

What makes him angrier than anything is that he's still in goddamn love with her.


	5. Next Time

In the summer, she's newly pregnant.

D.C. summers are bad enough. It's hot, humid, sticky. It hasn't especially bothered her before, although it always is a bit inconvenient to go to a crime scene in her bodysuit when it's the upper side of 90 degrees. It's always tricky trying to figure out how to get into bed without the pillows and blankets (or, when it's very hot, just the sheet) adding to the heat. No matter what you wake up sweaty and sticky and a cold shower is the only cure.

The only thing that's worse is waking up sticky and sweaty and running to the bathroom nauseous in the early morning hours, trying to make it before the morning sickness wins the battle. Throwing up in the bathroom all morning in the heat with hair sticking to the back of your neck, making the sickness feel twenty times worse. Even the tile on the floor and the porcelain of the toilet feel hot and the heat outside intensifies the sweat that comes naturally with vomiting.

In the winter, she's heavily pregnant.

As if it's not bad enough, the intense cold that comes in the winter. Having to bundle up just to go across the street: jackets, scarves, gloves, boots. Not wanting to get out of bed in the morning because even when the heat is on, it's cold, especially after a shower.

The only thing that's worse is when hands are swollen and gloves don't fit right and the maternity clothes are looser than regular clothes and don't keep you as warm. Feet are swollen and boots are uncomfortable. Getting out of a nice, warm bed in the middle of the night is hard enough and now there's a baby sitting on your bladder, causing middle of the night trips to the bathroom to multiply by fifteen. It's almost torture get out from the warmth of the bed to trek into the cold bathroom repeatedly and the tiles are cold on bare feet. Then there are the hot flashes, which make her want to kick the covers off her body. But then she wakes up twenty minutes later, toes frozen and shivering. So she pulls the blankets over herself and the process begins again.

Grumbling, she feels Booth roll over to face her.

"What's the matter, Baby?" he mumbles, his voice groggy with sleep. She can't sleep much these days either. At least, not well. She kind of finds it annoying that he can.

"This was absolutely not the optimal time to get pregnant. In fact, I believe it was the worst time to get pregnant," she informs him. "Morning sickness all through the heat of the summer. Frequent bathroom breaks in the cold of the winter. I've been pregnant through both seasons with the most intensity."

Booth places a kiss on her shoulder and runs a hand over her belly. "I'm sorry."

"Next time we're timing it better."

"Next time?" he smirks, kissing her shoulder again.


	6. Yes

Another morning after piece. Since we'll never know how it went down, there are endless possibilities.

* * *

><p>He wakes, and finds her still in his arms.<p>

The night before _actually happened_.

He's lost track of how many times he's woken, only to find it was a dream.

This isn't how he expected it to happen. Not after Vincent's death, when she was so broken. Never expected slow and gentle instead of fast and intense, at least for the very first time.

Well, intense… it _was_ intense. That was for damn sure.

Her eyes flutter open and he watches as she realizes where she is, as she has the same moment of _it actually happened_ that he had a few minutes earlier.

She blinks at him sleepily and says, "Good morning."

"Morning, Bones." He strokes her arm comfortingly and they're looking into each other's eyes and neither one is unsure if they should be the one to speak first.

Finally, he decides he will.

"You ready to do this?" he asks softly.

For all the times she does not understand, for all the 'I don't know what that means' he's heard in his life, she understands now.

"Yes," she responds just as softly.

"Us," he clarifies, just to be sure. She is Temperance Brennan, after all.

"Yes," she says again, voice confident and unwavering. "As long as you are."

"Yes," he tells her, leaning down to kiss her.


	7. Interview

Her interviewer was far too perky for her tastes.

"World renowned Forensic Anthropologist, one half of the best crime solving team in America, best selling author, wife, mother." She was still getting used to those last two being tacked on to her list of accomplishments, as they were lately. "How do you _do_ it _all_?" the woman asked, eyes wide, hair bouncing as she moved.

Brennan cleared her throat. "With very little sleep."

The woman laughed, pleased that she seemed to be getting some sort of joke out of world famous Dr. Brennan, who, every one knew, was extremely serious and literal in interviews.

What she didn't know was that she was, again, being literal.

Brennan went on. "I write late at night, after my daughter is asleep. It's the only time I have to write. So when I want to write, I simply give up sleep."

Her interviewer laughed again. "Isn't that the plight of mothers everywhere! What about the rest of your jobs? How do you balance your career at the museum, your work with the FBI, being a wife-"

"Being a wife is not a job," Brennan interrupted. "It should not be considered a _job_. The notion that women have to take care of men is highly outdated from an anthropological standpoint, at least in a culture such as our own."

"Well you have to make time for your husband in your life, don't you?"

"I spent most of the day with him."

"Oookay," the woman said, losing some of her perkiness. "Moving on."

It looked like her interviewer had enough of her already.

Afterwards, Booth approached her with a kiss to the forehead and a "Hey."

"Do not lie to me and tell me that went well," she stated immediately.

"See, this right here is why she said marriage is _work_." He pulled her into his arms.

"No, she meant work like I have to cook you dinner and wash your socks."

"She meant work like _compromise_."

"Compromises are not _work_…"

"Work like when you agreed to have a Baptism for Mads? That was a compromise that took a lot of work."

"No, that was a logical decision."

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "What about the mind-blowing sex, huh? That's work."

She rolled her eyes and laughed despite herself. "Hardly. I mean, yes – physically. But that's not what she was talking about."

"Time consuming," he countered. "It takes time from your other jobs. And _whew_, last night? Took up_ a lot_ of time."

"You seemed to be enjoying it."

"I was," he clarified quickly. "But that's time that you could've been writing…."

"I need some inspiration before I write," she teased him, loosening from his grasp and heading towards the exit.

"Ah ha! I knew it! You _do_ write about me!"

"I do not."

"You just said…"

"That does not mean I write about _you_."

"It's me. I've always known it's me."

"You know what? Maybe it _is_ work after all."


	8. He Knew

He'd once claimed he knew it, right from the beginning.

And he _did_. He always knew.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth from the FBI," was the first thing he ever said to her.

"I'm Dr. Temperance Brennan, from the Jeffersonian," she replied and their names, which would become so often entangled, were spoken together for the first time.

"Do you believe in fate?" he asked her, like he might ask any attractive woman he just met in an attempt to charm her. She was beautiful, and he recognized this right away. He knew. He just didn't know _what_ he knew, just yet.

It was a line, some sort of flirtation. He wasn't sure what he'd expected from her in response, but he'd go from whatever she gave him.

"Absolutely not. Ludicrous."

He hadn't been expecting that, exactly - but the challenging look on her face still gave him an idea that he could play this one. Just maybe not with such a blatant pick-up line.

He'd known from that instant.

But at the same time he knew nothing. Had absolutely no idea what he was in for.


	9. Pregnancy Test

It doesn't take long for her to realize what they did, or rather, didn't do, the night before.

She's never done this before. She's never been anything but rational, never allowed emotions to dictate her actions. Never had unprotected sex. Ever.

_What are the chances, anyway_? she thinks to herself the next day. Actually, she knows the chances. One third of women are likely to get pregnant from having unprotected sex just once. Depending on the stage of their menstrual cycle, their odds may be greater.

Damn, her menstrual cycle. She could very well be… no. She doesn't jump to conclusions, because she hates that, so until the evidence is in she doesn't put much energy into it.

The evidence comes in two weeks later when she's late. Just one day. But then it's two days and then three and then she wakes up one morning and the nausea overtakes her.

_Shit_, she thinks. _Of course_. It's no longer a jump.

That night she finds herself in the bathroom, pregnancy test (well, three) in hand. After all, she needs to have enough data to confirm the conclusion, whatever it may be.

_I cannot believe I am doing this,_ she thinks as she sets the timer for the five minutes it will take to reveal the answer.

_A baby_?

She's not sure what to do, what to feel. She never wanted children, until she declared a few years ago that she did. Then Booth had gotten sick. And she had gone to Guatemala and the Malaku Islands, things she couldn't do with a child. She quite enjoyed them. Then they'd seen more bad things through their work. She was reminded about the Gravedigger and introduced to a sniper and remembered that the world is a scary place.

But at the same time, she also saw Cam's joy, Angela's joy, Hodgins' joy as they happily traded in what they used to know for their children (or soon-to-be children).

She knows if the test is positive, she is going to be fine because this is her child. (Her _child.) _Booth's child_. _Their child. She likes that Booth's child can also be her child.

When the timer dings she sees two blue lines (well actually: six).

"Pregnant," she says softly, trying the word out on her lips.

_What is Booth going to say? _she can't help but wonder. The first time they are together. _The first time_, and they've got a child on the way. It's all so fast and sudden that she's not sure how he's going to react.

Her child. Booth's child.

Their child.

She has to admit, scared and nervous as she is, she likes the sound of that.

She has a feeling the one night of somethings she's never done before is about to lead to a whole lifetime of somethings she's never done before.

_Everything happens eventually_.

_Eventually_ has caught up to them.

_You just gotta be ready for it_.

She decided, in that instant, that she was.


	10. Bunsen Jude, Science Dude

**A/N: **Sorry that I haven't updated for a couple of months! I was on a roll, then bam! Got distracted. I've had this one in my head for a while now… Oh, also, I keep on resisting to name Booth and Brennan's kid until we find out what they will ACTUALLY name their kid, so my stories don't become inaccurate in a few months!

He hears the padding of her sock covered feet across the hardwood floor and wonders what his sick five year-old is up to now. She's been extremely lethargic and listless since coming home from school with a fever on Friday afternoon. She spent most of the weekend tucked in bed (which is how he knew she was actually _sick_), but after a day off of school today she seems to be on the mend. He decides to take a peek and leaves his work on his desk to round the corner into the living room.

She's sitting on the couch in her pink plaid pajama pants and matching pink t-shirt, socks mismatched on her feet (one purple with sheep, the other blue with stripes) and her hair in an extremely messy ponytail. She's got the remote for the DVD player in her hand, and he wonders what she's chosen to watch.

A moment later, his question is answered. Bunsen Jude, Science Dude, blares to life on the screen. It's one of the older episodes, not his current stuff, Booth recognizes right away.

"Hey, Princess."

She looks up to see him and smiles. "Hi Daddy!"

"Feeling better?" she nods as Booth comes to take a seat next to her, grabbing the discarded blanket and pulling it over her. "Whatca watching?"

"Bunsen Jude. It's the one that Mommy's in."

_Of course_, Booth realizes. She's developed a love for the show, but she's always been slightly fascinated with the fact that her own _mother_ could appear on television, on a show that she and her friends watch, nonetheless. It was a popular show among children her age, and she had been watching it since she was a toddler.

"Good choice," he tells her, pulling her onto his lap. She nods and snuggles into him, content to be in her father's arms.

"Mommy's _super_ smart," she adds with a yawn. "She says when I'm feeling better we can do a velocity experiment in my lab!"

"Awesome," Booth agrees.

They watch the episode and their little girl giggles in delight as she sees her mother come out dressed as a skeleton wearing a tutu. Booth remembers it as if it was yesterday, sitting in the audience watching her, but in some ways, it was another lifetime ago. He never would've imagined, back then, that she was creating something _their _daughter would love to watch, over and over.

When the episode ends, his daughter sighs. "I love science," she declares with a smile.

_Of course she does_, Booth thinks with a laugh, flipping through the channels on the TV.

"The Flyers!" the small voice squeals suddenly. "Daddy, _when_ can we go to a game?"

It always amazes him that she could be so much like _both_ of them.

Two radically different people, wrapped up in one little package.


	11. Protection

She has done extensive research on religious and cultural ceremonies, so she knows what a Baptism entails. She just never thought she would be experiencing it from this perspective: her child the one being Baptized.

She doesn't believe in God or the church or hell or heaven, but she knows that Booth does. It doesn't bother her at all to have her daughter Baptized, because since it's not her religion, it doesn't mean much to her one way or the other. But since it means so much to Booth, she had agreed, even before Christine was born.

Now she's in the midst of planning it all. Securing the church, sending out invitations, figuring out what she should wear, finding a gown for her daughter. Booth is instrumental in all of this, especially since he is the one that _has_ a gown to pass down and who knows what church he wants it done at, he has to be.

And still, it's exhausting her.

She does know one thing she wants. She wants Angela to be the Godmother. Whether or not she's religious, she wants Angela to play a special part in her daughter's life. When she mentions this to Booth, he laughs.

"What?"

"Nothing just… I'd already assumed Angela would be Godmother."

What does surprise her is that he wants Hodgins to be the Godfather.

"And if… you know… anything ever happened to… both of us… I would want them to take her."

It hits her like a blow to the gut, but she knew it was something they would have to discuss, sooner or later, given their jobs and how they _both_ come face to face with real danger more often than many other parents.

"Me too," she agrees quickly. She knows Angela and Hodgins would step up without hesitation. She knows Christine would fit in, alongside Michael and any other children Angela and Hodgins have.

Still, the notion of not being there to see her daughter grow up hurts her. So much so that for a second, she considers just going back to staying in the lab.

Then she remembers her stubbornness. She will not give in. She will go out in the field.

She has no idea how her parents could have done it, left them. She never did before, but now that she's a mother, she really has no clue how a parent could abandon their child.

And yet, because of the love she feels for her daughter and her fierce urge to protect her, she understands what they did more than ever.


End file.
